


Police Misconduct

by elithewho



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blackmail, Caning, Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, M/M, Restraints, total lack of kink negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:45:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2350541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elithewho/pseuds/elithewho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Where would you like me,” Will said with a determined sigh.</p>
<p>Chilton’s grin got, if possible, more wolfish.</p>
<p>“I asked you to wear a policeman’s uniform, Mr. Graham,” he said. “I want you to… arrest me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Police Misconduct

**Author's Note:**

  * For [headbuttingbears](https://archiveofourown.org/users/headbuttingbears/gifts).



> For Morgan, my muse and partner in thought crime.
> 
> Variation on the theme of "Chilton discovers Will's secret past as a pornstar and blackmails him into sex" because these are the types of convos we have.

Chilton’s house was as annoyingly pretentious as Will would have guessed. The place was spotlessly clean, white and modern, open and airy, completely sterile and impersonal. Everything seemed chosen for the express purpose of demonstrating Chilton’s excellent taste and sophistication. Or at least the appearance of such things. Like his office, his home was an excuse to show off and stroke his ego. Even the vase of flowers in the foyer clearly lacked any personal touch. Will had the urge to smash the thing, crush all the pure, frigid petals. Introduce some disorder to the place. 

Will half expected Chilton to offer him a drink. Pretend they had gone on a real date of some kind. Instead, he merely instructed Will to follow him upstairs.

Will hated Chilton’s bedroom as much as the rest of the house. The wide bed which Chilton clearly slept in alone night after night looked pathetic, with its expensive silk bedding and huge assortment of pillows. It didn’t look like a person lived there at all. Will considered this as Chilton removed his suit jacket, leering openly at him. Yes, it may be easier if he pretended Chilton wasn’t actually a real person.

“I… ah… have something for you,” Chilton said with a grin that sickened Will to his bones. He gestured to an armchair where there lay a neatly folded cop uniform. Will could feel his face heat up like the coils on a stove turned to maximum. He imagined that Chilton thought he was blushing. Rage bulldozed through him, crushing everything in its path.

Outwardly, Will maintained a mask of calm. He wasn’t sure exactly how long he could keep it there. Chilton’s eyes were glittering, raking Will’s form in a disturbingly familiar way. 

“Why don’t you go and change,” Chilton suggested, apparently unable to not be slimy and lecherous for five seconds.

Will gathered the uniform numbly and retreated to Chilton’s pristinely white bathroom as indicated. He noted with disgust that Chilton had included a collapsible baton and handcuffs on the utility belt. As he slid out of his clothes and into the uniform Chilton had provided, Will practiced shutting down his mind. He was well versed in that maneuver. All he had to do was be someone else for a little while. He may use this “gift” to catch serial killers these days, but back in the time that Chilton was so forcibly reminding him of this evening, he had used it for a different purpose. It had made him very popular.

Back in the bedroom, Chilton was wearing a hard, predatory expression which turned into a wide, vulturine grin when he saw Will.

“Where would you like me,” Will said with a determined sigh.

Chilton’s grin got, if possible, more wolfish.

“I asked you to wear a policeman’s uniform, Mr. Graham,” he said. “I want you to… arrest me.” His grin faltered at the last few words, but his eyes were dark and demanding.

Will stared at him, finally comprehending. He had assumed Chilton would want to do the fucking, be the “top” if Will was forced to consider this in industry terms, but he saw now that it was never Chilton’s intention. Will felt even more enraged. Did Chilton really expect to get fucked by him? Will would need to try a lot harder now to perform adequately. How typical of Chilton to make things extra difficult.

Will felt his rage and disgust coalesce into burning hatred. He grabbed Chilton by the back of his shirt and slammed him, harder than he ever would have under any other circumstance, into the wall. Chilton gasped, perhaps in shock. He quickly recovered enough to laugh under his breath.

“Please, Officer, you have the wrong man,” he simpered. Will could hear his blood pounding in his ears. He slid the handcuffs from his belt as he twisted both of Chilton’s arms behind his back, then cuffed his wrists together with practiced ease.

“Officer,” Chilton said breathily, laying it on so thick that Will felt his stomach churn. “Do you really need to take me into custody? I’m sure we can… work something out.”

Will could hear the underlying tone in Chilton’s voice, his lascivious sneer. He was probably convincing himself that Will was enjoying this as much as he was.

Will’s hands shook as he held Chilton firmly against the wall, one hand pressing his wrists into the small of his back with increasingly bruising force, the other now gripping the back of Chilton’s neck, keeping the side of his face pressed hard into the wall. Chilton’s skin was hot and sweaty. Will felt his hands tremble. Suddenly he was 19 again and Chilton was every sleazy, grinning porn director with a bald spot and a pot belly. He was every dirty old man who grinned and slapped Will’s ass, pressed a thumb into his mouth, told him what a good, pretty boy he was.

Chilton was squirming against the wall, apparently restless and annoyed with Will suddenly freezing.

“Officer?” he mumbled. “Are you –“

Whatever inane question he was going to ask was quickly cut short by Will extending his collapsible baton with a sharp snap and within the next second, cracking Chilton so hard in the back of his knee that he screamed in pain.

“Did you think,” Will spit out, breathing so hard that sharp pains tickled his lungs. “You could just blackmail me?” He hit Chilton again, this time in his side. The scream wrenched from him was guttural and he was left wheezing, sagging against the wall, with only Will’s hand on the back of his neck to keep him standing. “Let me handcuff you? And it would be fun?”

Chilton moaned. Will struck him a third time, in the same place as before, drawing a tortured groan and then letting him drop. Chilton fell like a wet sack of clothes, gasping in pain as his knee cracked against the hard floor. Will prodded him hard in the back with his baton, forcing him to lie fully on the thin carpet. He crouched low over Chilton’s shivering body. He looked carefully at the side of Chilton’s face not pressed against the floor. He was brick red, breathing heavy through his mouth, one eye wide and looking directly at Will.

Will did not feel the need to flinch away. He did not feel much like himself. Chilton, in that moment, was every man who ever made him feel like trash. But he didn’t feel like trash now. He felt powerful. His blood was surging, teeming with disgust and rage, giddy with adrenaline, flushed with this sense of dominance and control.

“Please…” Chilton mumbled, his breath still wheezing.

“Please what,” Will responded, head spinning.

“Please… sir…” Chilton nearly whispered. His voice trembled, but it hadn’t lost that edge of simpering coyness.

Will grabbed him roughly by the hair before he even knew what he was doing. He wrenched Chilton’s head back so hard that the man yelped. 

“You’re enjoying this?” Will bit out, incredulous. “You’re getting off, on this?” He punctuated the last word with a sharp stab with his baton in Chilton’s side where he had struck him. Chilton gasped. The sound might have been construed as pain, but there was a faint underlay of a moan in this throat that betrayed him.

“You’re disgusting,” Will said, shaking Chilton’s head sharply, still gripping his hair. He thought he heard something like laughter bubble up from Chilton’s mouth and Will shoved the man’s head down roughly, all but slamming his face into the floor. Even this elicited a small gasp.

Repulsed, heart pounding with rage, Will planted a knee into Chilton’s back and wrestled his tie out from under the collar of his shirt. After prying the knot free of his beautiful, doubtlessly expensive tie, Will bunched it up and shoved the wad of rather garish burgundy jewel toned silk into Chilton’s mouth.

“I’m sick of listening to you,” Will spat viciously. Chilton could still groan. Will shoved his face further into the carpet.

Will was not entirely convinced that Chilton was genuinely enjoying this. He wouldn’t put it past the man to keep up the roleplay, even now. Still firmly pressing his knee into Chilton’s back, Will slid a hand around his hip and under his body, seeking out the man’s groin. Chilton was undeniably hard. He groaned, thrusting his hips helplessly when Will touched him. Will’s hand constricted into a fist, entirely out of the surge of fury that pounded in his head like a battering ram, and not with any desire to pleasure the man writhing feebly beneath him. His grip was so tight, tighter than Will would ever consider enjoyable, but Chilton was moaning, the sound muffled by his own tie shoved in his mouth, his hips moving in a frustrated bid to increase the friction. The fact that Chilton did not even try to extract the tie from his mouth with just his tongue made Will want to smash his face in with the baton still in his hand. 

Chilton’s erection was every erection of every leering old man with lubricant stains on their white t-shirts, pressing their cocks against Will’s ass. He felt such profound hatred and disgust. His grip tightened on the baton. He felt himself raise it above his head and bring it down again with brutal force, this time against Chilton’s upper thigh. The scream was stifled by expensive Italian silk, but Will could feel it vibrate inside Chilton’s body from the knee pressed into his back. He barely paused, striking him again and again. Chilton was emitting one long, continuous scream. His hands, cuffed firmly behind his back, clenched uselessly. Will was in a frenzy. He laid blows all over Chilton’s thighs and ass, the hard thwack of the baton muted by finely tailored trousers. Will was seized with a perverse fury. He paused his brutal assault, only to reach beneath Chilton’s body again, this time to unbuckle his belt and tear at the zip of his trousers. Chilton, of course, lifted his hips a small margin, as if to accommodate. Will shoved Chilton’s trousers and briefs down to mid-thigh. The man’s skin was red and mottled, soon to become one mass of painful bruises. Will began hitting him again, this time against bare, already damaged flesh. 

Chilton’s screams were beginning to sound choked and guttural. Will only stopped because he could feel his arm tiring. He let the baton fall to the floor, his breaths coming sharp and painful. He spared a glance for Chilton’s face, screwed up and red against the floor. It was wet now too. Chilton was crying, perhaps in spite of himself. Will sought out his cock again, this time finding access between his legs. Chilton shivered as Will’s hand grazed his balls. His dick was hard and leaking. Will cupping his apparently straining erection made Chilton tremble and moan pathetically.

“You’re sick,” Will muttered. He had lost some of his wild fury to exhaustion. But the hate still remained. “You’re really a freak. The most disgusting type of person.”

Chilton emitted a choked, muffled sob. Will patted his ass absently. Chilton flinched away, the gentle gesture undoubtedly feeling like broken glass scraping against his sensitive skin. It occurred to Will that he had been in a similar position, more than once. His face pressed against the floor, ass on display, some man looming over him with bad intent. He almost felt a surge of empathy for Chilton but it quickly fizzled out when he remember that Chilton was not shaking in terror, but arousal, and that he had likely masturbated to Will in this position, derived sick pleasure from watching Will in pain.

Hate pounded through him as his gentle pat turned into a sharp blow, an agony for Chilton’s abused skin. Will couldn’t forget his own prior experiences as he surveyed Chilton’s recoil of pain. Here he was, finally in the position of power. And there was Chilton, the embodiment of everything he hated, wrecked and abused on the floor, hands bound and helpless. Chilton was really going to enjoy this? Then let him. Will could enjoy it too.

Will did not even bother to spit on his fingers as he sought out Chilton’s asshole. He felt the man twitch and tremble, then whine in pain as Will dug deep with two fingers, not caring at all for the other man’s comfort. Will did not need to think hard to emulate the feelings of a person who would enjoy this.

Chilton writhed desperately against Will’s fingers, despite the fact that it must be terribly painful for him to be rooting around in there dry. It wasn’t long before he was brushing against his prostate. Chilton stiffened and squirmed, choked moans made thick by his gag. Will teased him there again and again, some sick part of him enjoying the way Chilton clenched and unclenched his bound hands, his single visible eyeball rolling in his head.

When he felt like he was being a little too generous, Will withdrew his hand. Chilton whined pitifully in protest. Will palmed his own cock through his pants. His whole body was buzzing. He was hard and his brain was not functioning at a higher level. All he wanted right now was to fuck this repulsive excuse for a human being and make him hurt, badly.

Will unzipped his pants and pushed his boxers down enough to pull out his cock. He knelt between Chilton’s legs, nudging his thighs apart to give himself space. He could hear Chilton’s labored breathing; the man’s anticipation was palpable. Will stroked himself to full hardness and then spit in his hand, lubing his dick as much as Chilton deserved.

Will was intimately aware of how damaging this action could be, especially if Chilton hadn’t had anal sex in a while. And judging by his tangible desperation, he probably hadn’t. But, Will reasoned insanely, he had just beaten the man with a baton, he would already be unable to sit right for a week, at least. And pain seemed to be Chilton’s biggest turn on. Well, Will thought callously, you asked for it.

Will seized Chilton by his hips and pulled roughly, planting his shaking knees onto the floor so that his ass was perfectly in line with Will’s cock.

“In the industry, we call this bare backing,” Will said conversationally. “But I suspect you already knew that.”

He pressed in slowly, just enough for Chilton to feel how painful this was going to be. Chilton tensed, his whole body going stiff and taut as a harp string. His whine of pain was sharp and high, quickly turning into a muted sob as Will pushed in deeper.

“Relax, babe,” Will said, letting amusement seep into his voice. It was a perfect imitation of one particular director who everyone called “The Yeti” for his thick coating of coarse hair. Will even gave Chilton’s rump a sharp slap to complete the illusion. It was Will’s turn to laugh now, hard and cold. Chilton whimpered.

Will allowed himself to enjoy the sensation. Chilton’s quivering ass clenched so deliciously around him that Will gritted his teeth, trying not to moan. It was so sick, so depraved, that he had to enjoy it. The only other option was to hate himself. Will began moving inside Chilton, the hard, uncomfortable rub of his poorly lubricated asshole a much worse agony for him than for Will.

Will spit again, moistening his dick at Chilton’s entrance, much more for his own comfort than for the man beneath him, then sped up his pace. Chilton’s moans were mingled with sobs as Will began truly plowing him. He felt such perverse power from Chilton’s wretched, trembling body tightening around him that Will had to squeeze his eyes shut to blot out the image of Chilton’s face, dripping sweat and tears, groaning around his gag.

When Will came, it was with a guttural grunt tore from his chest, and a rough, sharp snap of his hips colliding with Chilton’s. He stayed there for a moment, buried inside him, dizzy with indescribable emotions. He pulled out, feeling Chilton tense and then go slack beneath him. Will fell back, sitting on his ass far away from Chilton’s quivering body. Before him, Chilton slumped to the floor and lay completely still. His breath was a series of painful sounding wheezes.

Now that he was firmly on the other side of it, in that bleak, empty post-orgasmic haze, Will felt the disgust creep back in. Except it wasn’t entirely for Chilton anymore. In fact, it was hard to feel such intense hatred for that pathetically shaking body as he had before. Will felt sick all over. His skin was burning up like a sudden, intense fever. His hands shook as he tucked his softening cock back into his boxers. He recalled with nauseating clarity “Relax, babe” and a sharp slap on someone’s ass. Will stumbled to his feet, wondering if he was going to be sick. Chilton was still a shaking mass on the floor.

Will fumbled for the key to the handcuffs and with a snick, Chilton’s hands slid free. There were vivid red lines pressed into his wrists where the handcuffs had bit into his skin. They would soon become lurid bruises lasting for days. Chilton merely let his hands fall slowly to his sides, not bothering to do more than lie there bonelessly just yet.

Will’s head was pounding. He needed to sit down. He collapsed into the nearest chair and let his head fall in his hands. Everything was a sick, stomach-churning blur. He stayed that way until he sensed movement and heard Chilton’s grunts of pain as he struggled to get up. Will watched him soundlessly as he removed his tie from his mouth, the garment hopelessly ruined with spit and whatever else. He registered Chilton’s hiss of pain as he slid his briefs and trousers back on, the man’s damp red face and shaking hands. He noticed that Chilton had ejaculated at some point, judging by the semen smeared on his shirt front.

There was a heavy, oppressive silence. Will felt cold and empty, like a log cabin abandoned in the winter. No one’s home, he thought hollowly. Chilton was carefully pretending he wasn’t there, still trying to compose himself.

“I’m going to leave now,” Will announced. He found he didn’t care anymore if Chilton exposed him. It didn’t feel as immediate or important as it did earlier in the evening.

Chilton was only nodding, staring at the wall. Will stood up, praying that his legs would support him. The room swayed like the deck of a ship in a squall. He took a moment to find his balance, shutting his eyes to suppress the nausea rising in his gullet. His hands shook as his stripped out of that ridiculous uniform to redress himself in his own clothes. He didn’t even bother to seek some privacy. Chilton was sitting on his appallingly garish bed, looking vaguely shell shocked. Will did not even spare him a second glance before leaving the way he came.


End file.
